In dream I woke and stood bewitched

Before a door of oak and cedar

To hear a voice that played upon

A song of keys, part lost, part won

And tugged and pulled my heart to be there

With haunting glimpse of lifetime fixed

As though my past had been remixed

➰

Who knocks? – In truth, I had not yet

A saving grace of dream’s regret

For shame, I turned and stole away

Returning to the light of day

By darkened alleys’ coffee cake

In little houses where they bake

The whitened streets of darker Bézier

➰

And if I’d stayed to read the keys

Of life deployed in sated needs

Would piercing eyes unseen but known

Which through the cedar mocked my guile

Then chase through ever darkening streets

With courage ‘lost’ and weakening knees

This fragile soul so far from home…

➰

Come breakfast Cognac, help dispel this dream

And let me know not what it means

Content to walk this ancient place

Where death once stalked with foulest face

Albigenses, Cathars, hear my prayer

And lift my spirit’s deep despair

And with this light of morning give me grace.

➰

©Stephen Tanham 2022

Photo of Bézier door-knocker by the author.

Stephen Tanham is a Director of the Silent Eye, a journey through the forest of personality to the dawn of Being.

http://www.thesilenteye.co.uk and http://www.suningemini.blog